Page 127 of Ruby Malice

“Actually,” he says, “I was thinking I’d offer you a promotion. To caregiver.”

I inhale sharply. Then a thought occurs to me. “Not for you, right? For Ilya?”

He chuckles. “Yes. For Ilya. But I guess that depends on what kind of care you’d be willing to give me.”

I elbow him. “Be serious.”

“You’ve been good for Ilya. You have a special heart, and he needs that. After everything he has been through, Ilya needs someone like you in his life.”

And what about you?I want so badly to ask.Do you need someone like me, too?

“Wow,” I breathe. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say ‘yes.’”

“You’re asking me to move across the country.”

Kirill waves me away. “You have a couple months to decide about that. For now, accept the promotion.”

“Are you sure?”

He lowers his chin, dark brow raised. “I’m always sure, Rayne. I know what I want. Do you?”

For a second there, nestled between the sand and Kirill’s chest, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. But now that I’m staring up at his kiss-swollen lips and his hair that is mussed from my hands, I know exactly what I want.

Everything.

I want every part of Kirill. Every little scrap of him I can find. I may never get enough, but that won’t stop me from trying.

“Okay,” I croak. “I accept.”

29

RAYNE

If Sonya wonders why I got a promotion from one day to the next, she doesn’t say anything to me. It does make sense, though. Having worked for Kirill for only a few weeks now, it’s clear questioning him doesn’t take you very far.

Unless you’re me, of course. If you’re me, you can question Kirill and fight with him and he will call you exceptional and give you mind-melting orgasms on the beach.

A stupid grin spreads across my face. I have to fight to bite it back when Sonya walks in carrying groceries to the kitchen. It’s taken all of my focus not to smile like an idiot all day. Partly because of the aforementioned mind-melting orgasm, and partly because it’s simply been a good day. It’s been a long time since I’ve had one of those.

Ilya waves his hands in the air in celebration. “I did it!”

“You finished it?” I lean forward, inspecting the interior of the rocket ship. The Lego kit came with step-by-step instructions, but it took some convincing for Ilya to give it a try. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it on his own. But after just a few minutes, he was coasting through the pages. “I knew you could do it. This is incredible!”

“Puzzle,” he says.

I nod. “It is a puzzle. Exactly. Just like all of the other ones you love, but three-dimensional.”

Ilya studies the build again, holding it up like it’s a priceless artifact. As far as I’m concerned, it might as well be.

“We can display it, if you want?” I suggest. “Maybe put it on the bookshelf in your room. Or on the wall.”

I stand up and turn in a circle, looking for a place out of the way where it can live. Ilya hasn’t had a full-blown, destructive outburst in a few days, but if he does have one, I don’t want the rocket ship he worked so hard on to end up scattered in pieces across the floor.

When I finish my pirouette, Ilya is standing behind me. His green eyes—so much like his brother’s that it takes my breath away—are bright and his hands are extended. The rocket ship is in his palms.

“Do you know where you want to put it?” I ask.

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